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Drumming my fingers on my glass, I become aware that Blake isn't saying anything, which is unlike him.
"What?" I bark.
"Tell me you're not here sitting on your ass and drinking instead of fixing things, or I'll put chili peppers in your next drink."
"Why do you think I ignored everyone's calls the entire afternoon? I was fixing things." Gripping my empty glass tightly, I shove it in Blake's face. "Another scotch. No chili peppers. I'm working with Alan—he's Victoria's lawyer—putting all my resources at his disposal so he can build a bulletproof case."
"Alan is a great lawyer. Can we help in any way?" my older brother asks. "You might have sounded like a pompous pig to that social worker, but we actually do have enough influence to turn all of this in Victoria's favor."
"I know. I'm pulling all the strings. I'm handling this, but I appreciate the offer. I’m making one thousand percent sure she's going to win."
"Have you talked to Victoria?" Logan continues.
"Alan said it's best if I keep my distance from her and the kids until the trial. I’m not sure she wants to hear from me right now, anyway."
Blake is handing out drinks to a group that's lingering in front of the counter, but I can tell he's still listening to our conversation.
"Look at the bright side," he says once the group leaves, retreating to a table at the back.
"Oddly enough, I don't see any."
"You have time to come up with a grovel plan," he informs me.
"Don't start with your crap." I down the whiskey in two gulps.
Blake smirks. "Free drinks come with my crap."
"I'll pay for my drinks, then."
"I know Blake can be obnoxious," Logan interferes, "but he makes a good point."
"You've now managed to offend and praise me in one sentence. Congratulations." Blake raises my empty glass, tipping it in Logan's direction. Logan clinks his scotch against Blake's glass. I can't believe I'm witnessing the least probable alliance in the Bennett family. Once upon a time, when Blake's full-time job was partying, Logan was riding Blake's ass continuously. It came from the brotherly concern that Blake was wasting his life, but it was fun to watch. At any rate, much more fun than seeing these two team up against me.
"Just because you're ensuring the result of the trial will be in Victoria's favor, it doesn't mean she'll take your sorry ass back," Blake clarifies. "It’ll require some serious groveling. Now, my usual weapons of choice are flowers or presents. They've rarely failed me. Then again, my antics were of a different kind. More of the ‘I forgot your birthday’ variety." After a brief pause, he adds, "Or the ‘I slept with your best friend’ variety."
Logan and I snort at the same time.
"How did groveling go after you pulled that stunt?" I ask.
Blake shrugs. "It was the first time I legitimately feared a woman might cut my balls off."
"I would’ve paid good money to see that," Logan remarks with a shit-eating grin.
"I want to hear the whole story."
"It wasn't precisely a groveling case. I broke it off with that chick, Monica, and she and I agreed to stay friends. You know, in that way where neither of you actually want that, but it's the least awkward thing to say. About a year later, I met her best friend at a party. She was complaining how she'd had a dry spell for months."
"The horror," I mutter sarcastically.
"Exactly. I thought I'd help her out." Blake clearly hasn't picked up the sarcasm. "I'm always happy to take one for the team."
"Except you weren't on her team," I point out.
"I change teams according to my interests," Blake says seriously. "She confessed everything to Monica afterward. I never understood why."
Logan leans over the counter, stealing a jar of peanuts. "Might I suggest remorse?"
"That makes no sense. Monica and I had broken up an entire year before the event, and we'd been together for a week."
